The Brink of Sanity: A Descent into Madness

December 24, 2000

Rage. That’s what I felt at the sight of him. The alcohol wafted off his breath as his hard body hovered over mine. Tingles raced through my core, but I was enraged. The warm touch of his moist lips made my body shiver.

“How dare you!” I screamed. I scrunched up my face to assert my dominance over him. He was younger than my husband, even younger than me, and I wouldn’t have him thinking that he could touch me whenever he wanted just because we were sleeping together. I didn’t want to feel the pain anymore. I didn’t want to see the sorrow in his deep blue eyes when I walked out the door. It was always the same.

“How dare ME?! I cannot honestly believe what I am hearing from you right now! Are YOU an insane woman?!” Michael hollered. His words slurred from his inebriated state. The look in his eyes told me that I was breaking his heart. I was crushing him with my indecision. I could feel his heart crumbling before my very eyes, but what was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to leave my family for him? My eyes couldn’t help but roam over his body. His torn polo shirt dangled from his slender yet muscular frame and I ached to feel him inside of me again.

He reached over to grab my arm “Rebecca,” he uttered so softly I might have missed it, except I didn’t. I heard the desperation in his voice as he held onto me as though his life depended on it. I saw a flicker in his eyes, something I had never seen before and wasn’t quite sure that I could place it. Regret, envy, desire, rage? The thoughts raced through my mind so hard and fast that I hadn’t noticed when his hand reach high above his head as he prepared himself to strike me for the first time in our relationship.

I felt a tinge of fear, but mostly, I felt regret. I had been a terrible wife and an even more terrible mother. Maybe I deserved what was about to happen to me. I could not wrap my head around my thoughts, but suddenly, things had become crystal clear. It wasn’t my fault this was happening; it was hers... It was that rotten daughter, dominating her father’s attention, that stole my youth.

I had been so engrossed in my own thoughts that I hadn’t realized Michael spiraling out of control. The combination of alcohol and cocaine had his head in a fog. The muscles in his arms tightened as his crystal blue eyes glazed over. I watched his eyes as his sense of awareness and self-control faltered. It seemed as though he could see me one moment and not the next.

His lower lip quivered with anger, “You don’t understand,” he pleaded with me. “You’re so damn insecure!” he screamed, and my sense of logic and reason faded away. This bastard just wants to have it all. He wants to fuck me and fuck my daughter. The more he tried to explain himself, the angrier I became. She is such a little slut, trying to steal my man from me.

“I told you already, she is just a little kid. I’m not interested. I want you,” he began begging, and that just made him more guilty in my eyes. I saw the way that he looked at her. The way his eyes roamed from her face down her body and back up again sent a pang of jealousy I had not expected to feel. His eyes rested on her chest and lingered for too damn long. He saw me watching, and he tried to pretend he was tying his shoes. Asshole was wearing fucking sandals.

“You fucking liar,” I spat.

“I swear to God Rebecca, you’re wrong about this and you know it! I love you, but you cannot keep doing this to me. I never meant anything by it, I swear to you!” his voice was exasperated as tears welled in his eyes. I hated it when he did this. Acted as though he was the victim. He was always the victim, and I was still the villain. I was the villain at home, and I was the villain here. For fuck’s sake, when can I be the one who gets some fucking TLC.

I was starting to feel the effects of the shit that we had snorted together. Michael was hovering over me, holding me with one arm and the other raised in the air slightly resting on the wall behind me. I wanted to stop arguing and run my fingers through his golden blonde hair. The way it was drenched in sweat and tangled from the evening’s activities was so damn sexy.

Standing in front of him, I felt a combination of desire and fear. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I also couldn’t deny the way my body responded to his touch, and I wanted to taste him again.

“I’ve given you everything. All of me. I would have given you the world. Why her? Why” My voice came out harsh and cruel, and I wanted to stop speaking, but I was so angry. “You want my daughter? You want Victoria!” I screamed in his face, my spit landing on his lips. I couldn’t understand why he was choosing her over me. Fuck him!